


To Boldly Go

by echoicdreamscape



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:04:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3658275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoicdreamscape/pseuds/echoicdreamscape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of Shoot Star Trek AUs. Will cover pre-relationship from their Academy days to their time aboard <span class="u">The Machine</span>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stardate 2305

Root trudged toward the mess hall after a long day of intercepting and translating Klingon transmissions. _If I hear one more thing about_ hegh'bat, she thought, _I might just commit it myself._

She ignored the conversations around her as she approached the replicator. 

“Chicken noodle soup, please.” The machine beeped its response.

Choosing a dish with such developed flavors may use more rations, but she needed it after a fifteen-hour shift. _It’s not like I can’t increase my rations anyway,_ she thought with a smirk. 

Retrieving her bowl, she sat down at an empty table and proceeded to methodically eat while pulling up a recipe for plomeek soup on her PADD. She was halfway done until she noticed some of her fellow crewmates sneaking glances at her and surreptitiously looking away.

Root was used to the stares by now. She was, after all, the _weird one_ who was so devoted to  The Machine that she had a cochlear implant inserted into her right ear to maintain communication with it at all times.

Shrugging, she finished her meal and stood up to exit.

“-and Commander Shaw? I don’t think so.”

“I think I saw them stare at each other once!”

“It’s not like Vulcans can love anyway.”

She narrowed her eyes at that one. Once again, the off duty crew was gossiping about her personal life.

* * *

Root remembered the first time she overheard the others talking about her. Captain Finch usually tried to keep that at a minimum, but he usually stayed confined to his quarters when he wasn’t talking with his favorite member of the crew, John Reese. Reese was the leader of the red shirts aboard The Machine and led them with an iron fist. _It’s funny,_ she thought, _sometimes Reese is almost as stoic as Sameen!_

She had been in the hydroponics bay watering her sunflowers when she heard two voices from the other end of the room.

“Oh my god, did you see her _arms_?”

“Yes! I almost wish Vulcans didn’t cover up so much now that we know they’re hot!”

Root furrowed her brow and set down her watering can. As far as she knew, Sameen was the only female Vulcan on board. _Half-Vulcan,_ she corrected in her mind. She pondered what they could have seen. Perhaps they had caught Sameen returning from the gym. The women continued on.

“It’s too bad _Root’s_ the only one who gets to see that body on the regular,” one voice said with a scoff. She had emphasized Root's name with a condescending tone.

“You really think they’re dating?”

“With the way they look at each other, how could they not be? Honestly, Shaw could do so much better!”

With that, the two voices disappeared and Root was left alone in the room. She wasn’t bothered by the insults to her; she had endured them all her life and had heard worse even in elementary school.

What unnerved her was the gossip she had heard about her and Sameen. Before she could continue her line of thought, she felt a tug in her mind. _Looks like I’m needed elsewhere,_ she thought.

* * *

Returning to the present, Root started heading toward her quarters. Before she arrived, she ran into Joss Carter, the helmsman of The Machine.

“Girl, have you heard what the crew has been saying?” Carter began with a tone that clearly said _you’d better be more careful from now on._

Root rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Carter slapped her on the shoulder before continuing down the hall.

“Give Shaw my best!” 

Root waited until Carter’s form disappeared along the curve of the hallway. 

“What is Sameen’s location?” she asked out loud.

“ _Commander Shaw is located on Deck 7, room 216,_ ” The Machine’s answer came promptly.

Root grinned to herself.

* * *

The door to room 216 on Deck 7 swooshed open with the press of Root’s palm. She smiled affectionately in the dim candlelight to the seated figure whose back was to her.

“Still meditating?” she asked. 

Shaw turned around to face her. Standing up, she approached Root slowly as Root admired her figure in a black tank top. 

“You are 9.36 minutes later than your average arrival time after dinner,” she stated, looking Root straight in the eye.

Root sighed. “Since you were meditating, I guess you weren’t listening to what was going on.”

Shaw tilted her head two degrees in slight question.

“ _The crewmembers have been questioning our relationship,_ ” Root said in her mind, a shy tone carrying over.

“ _They have performed this action verbally twenty-four times now,_ ” was Shaw’s response.

“How do you feel about it?” Root asked out loud, not meeting Shaw’s eyes.

Shaw drew closer to her, taking her hand. Root shuddered at the contact, feeling their telepathic bond strengthen and Shaw’s emotions carry over into hers. She gazed into Shaw’s eyes.

“My feelings about the matter are unchanged,” Shaw replied. “Humans have the tendency to speculate about anything that piques their interest.”

Root grinned at her bondmate, letting Shaw’s emotions wash over her. She remembered the time when they were still in the Academy, when their relationship was brand new. _”Vulcans do feel emotions,”_ Shaw had told her, letting their fingertips touch for the first time. _”Some more deeply than humans.”_ Root remembered gasping, surprised at feeling Shaw’s telepathic abilities for the first time. That, and the emotions Shaw had conveyed to her in the fourth of a second they had touched. Apparently these emotions included love and possessiveness, although all Root could feel at the moment was Shaw’s usual supernova of heat that characterized her feelings toward her. Root let herself bask in the scorching waves until she couldn’t take it much longer.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well, Sameen. I thought you don’t like it when people pry into our not-as-secret-as-I-thought relationship!”

“ _There comes a time when even the most secretive person cannot hide when it comes to another,_ ” was her response.

Shaw let go of her hand, knowing that Root had reached her threshold for handling Shaw’s overwhelming emotions and looked up at her, the right side of her lips slightly angled up.

“You have slept an average of 6.74 hours the past seven days. We should prepare to retire.”

Root’s right hand reached to brush Shaw’s cheek, then the point of Shaw’s left ear. Sensitive, Shaw leaned into her touch.

“ _Not tonight,_ ” she gently chastised.

Root stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Shaw’s waist. Keeping her in a light embrace, she leaned slightly downward.

Shaw kept her arms at her side but leaned up, brushing her lips against Root’s in a chaste kiss. Root sighed and closed her eyes, smiling as she felt Shaw’s warmth for the second their lips met.

She pulled back, gazing into Shaw’s eyes. Although they were set in a mostly stoic face, Root had been adept at reading her expressions for nearly four years now.

“Okay Sameen, let’s go to bed.”

* * *

Root was the first to crawl under the covers. Shaw blew the candles out and turned the temperature down to seventy-five degrees.  
(At first, Root couldn’t handle the hot temperatures at which Shaw enjoyed keeping her room. “Eighty degrees?!” she had exclaimed the first time she had entered Shaw’s apartment. Then she remembered Shaw had lived under two suns for some time, and eighty degrees was meant to accommodate human presence. The two eventually settled on seventy-five after a few debates.)

Shaw climbed onto the right side of the bed and faced Root. The two unconsciously synced their breathing as they began their nightly routine.

“No matter what they say, Sameen, I love you,” Root whispered, looking her dead in the eye.

Shaw clenched her jaw and imperceptibly nodded.

Root was okay with that. Shaw had yet to say the words back to her, but she could feel all of her emotions through their bond. Slowly, Shaw withdrew her emotions until there remained just a sliver of warmth.

Root smiled and turned over so her back was facing Shaw. She closed her eyes and heard a slight rustling of sheets as Shaw drew in close to her from behind. Root felt a warm arm wrap around her waist and drifted off to sleep feeling Shaw exhale and bury her nose in the crook of her neck.

Although Shaw was hesitant in vocalizing her emotions, Root knew that every soft glance, every touch, everything she felt through their bond, meant _I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing for Person of Interest and it's been a while since I've read up on my Star Trek lore so let me know how it went!  
> Their room number (yes, they share a room!) refers to the first time they met, in _Relevance_ (2x16).  
>  They have been dating for three years or so in this chapter.  
> Their telepathic bond refers to the mind meld Shaw performed on Root during her pon farr. I took a few creative liberties and had the bond last since they're in looooove. Through this bond they can feel what the other is feeling, provided there are no walls up (which there usually are) or if Shaw isn't meditating.  
> Root is the communications officer, Shaw is the science officer, Finch is the captain, Reese is Red Shirt extraordinaire, Carter is the helmsman, Fusco is Red Shirt #2. Others may appear in the future.  
> I'm not sure if I want to give The Machine a personality...we'll see.


	2. Love Is...

Root was twelve the first time she said the words. Back then she was still Sam Groves, the outcast who lived with her mother in the neighborhood with broken down shacks of houses. Sam was shunned for being poor, yet intelligent enough to be at the top of class and confident enough to voice her opinions whenever she wanted. She often found herself with gum in her hair or pushed around by bigger girls – and that was on a good day.

Sam mostly kept to herself and coded on her PADD whenever possible. After all, she understood computers more than she understood humans. Even at the age of twelve Sam had begun to create Root, someone who was greater than the rest of humanity. Someone who had power. Someone who wasn’t bullied, and definitely someone who didn’t care.

The unfortunate thing was that Sam did care, but only for one person. Hanna Frey. A girl who had a similar family situation to Sam’s, but who got along with everyone in school. Nothing bad ever happened to Sam when Hanna was around. 

Sam told Hanna “I love you” one day in passing, and the next day, Hanna disappeared forever.

On the day Hanna died, so did Samantha Groves.

* * *

Shaw was born to a human father and a Vulcan mother. Her parents’ marriage was barely permissible to the Vulcan High Council but her mother was the Ambassador to Earth so they allowed it this time.

Her father named her Sameen after his mother and he was the only one who called her by the name. Even her mother referred to her as Shaw, her father’s last name. She didn’t mind, though. She knew that the name her father gave her meant that he loved her.

Back then, Shaw displayed her emotions more, especially in front of her father. _”My little Sameen,”_ he used to call her, and she would grin up at him. Shaw occasionally overheard her parents fighting about her openness with her emotions and she would run back to her room with tears in her eyes.

Being raised on Vulcan, Shaw was ostracized by her peers. She may have had the pointed ears and sculpted eyebrows, but everyone knew who she was, what she was. Although she got into a few fistfights in the skill domes, she was never kicked out of Vulcan Learning Center due to her prodigious intellect and her mother’s high status. 

Shaw didn’t have any friends, but she had her father and that was enough for her. 

Shaw was ten years old when her father died in front of her. They had taken a transport to watch a 3-D chess tournament and debating the most logical first move when a visiting human had crashed into them.

Her father sputtered blood from his mouth as she pressed two fingers to his cheek. In his last seconds, she felt fear, pain, despair, and a dying ember of love he felt for her and her mother. _“Sameen”_ was his dying breath and she stood up, glaring at the human who had survived the crash.

No one called her Sameen after that day.

The next day, Shaw began training in kolinahr to purge all emotion.

* * *

Root entered Starfleet after graduating from MIT with a degree in computer science at the age of eighteen. By this time, gone was the awkward girl who hid behind her sole friend in middle school. Gone was the girl who was pushed against the lockers by taller girls who reeked of cigarettes and caked makeup over their acne. Gone was the girl who ever believed in love.

Root emerged a tall, devious woman who could get almost anything with a smirk and a hand on someone’s arm. _Gorgeous_ was the word she usually heard describe her and she took advantage of it. If those methods didn’t work, she could simply hack her way in and take what she wanted. 

In one day, Root had hacked the Federation twice, given her Valedictorian speech, and fucked a girl she picked up simply by winking at her across the street.

She chose Starfleet to escape from the lowly, mundane humans on Earth. Surely, she thought, others species could show her where humanity went wrong.

Root enrolled on a communications track and dreamed of warping past galaxies, leaving Earth behind her.

* * *

Shaw entered Starfleet instead of enrolling in the Vulcan Science Academy. _Disadvantage,_ they had called her humanity. She walked out from the Council with a slight sneer on her face and bought a one-way shuttle ticket to Earth scheduled to leave the next day.

Her first two years were uneventful. She had a routine she followed exactly every day: meditation in the morning, class, playing with the 3-D chess group every Friday evening, and meditation at night. She made no friends except for John, who she sparred with twice a week in the gym. 

John was probably as close to stoic as a human could get. He spoke only when necessary and respected her privacy, both personal and physical. Not once had he accidentally made open hand-to-skin contact with her, preventing the two from telepathically connecting. Being with John was acceptable since he was less hectic and more respectful than most humans. By their second semester in the Academy, they found themselves sharing meals together in Shaw’s apartment. 

Although he tended to sweat in the eighty-degree heat, he never once complained. The two often sat in companionable silence but what she liked the most about him was how he always called her Shaw, even after he learned her first name.

* * *

As with all teenagers, Root began discovering her sexuality when she was sixteen. She was in her sophomore year of college then and had a drunk, messy affair with a girl at a party. Root was always a fast learner and smirked as the girl writhed under her.

Soon after that, Root had a different girl every week. Her easy confidence and smooth talking drew them in and she always felt a rush dominating them. She fucked them feeling only that rush and a sense of emptiness that didn’t bother her one bit. Root’s method was this: fuck a girl a few times depending on her interest level and leave her, no mess, no hurt. Of course there was hurt on their part and she found girls attached to her, begging for another time, begging for _more,_ but she moved on easily (with threats if needed). 

Root continued her hurricane of ruin in Starfleet. She had always rarely let herself get fucked, preferring to finish the girls and pleasure herself if needed at home. 

_On the prowl,_ her only friend, Harold, had described her actions. Root may have been a heartbreaker, but at least she never led anyone on nor forced them to do anything with her.

* * *

Harold was actually _Captain Finch_ who had taken a teaching post at the Academy after the disaster with his old ship that had killed two hundred of his crew and left him with a limp. _Romulans_ was his only explanation when she asked what happened, and Root respected him enough not to pry. Harold taught Root’s Transporter Theory class and after her first visit to his office hours, the two met weekly to discuss not only the class but also other topics such as ethics (which produced heated debates) and the alien species Harold had encountered in his travels. 

Harold had given up on trying to get Root to call him by his title and she had even gone far enough to call him Harry. They discussed their lives over 3-D chess games and Harold had grown to accept Root’s idiosyncrasies and began to see her as somewhat of a daughter figure. 

While he admired her genius-level intellectual abilities, she was severely lacking in human and social contact. 

“Why don’t you attend a 3-D Chess Club meeting?” he asked her one month into the semester. “You may meet others similar to you.”

Root simpered at him. “Finally tired of me, huh?”

“Ms Groves-“

“Root.”

“Root. My company is not sufficient for your social development.” Root frowned at that statement. “You need to make connections if you wish to advance in Starfleet,” he tried again. 

Root sighed. “All right, Harry, once for you.”

* * *

Contrary to popular (human) belief, Vulcans had sexual desires. Teenage Shaw found herself with these emerging urges, even with her training in kolinahr. Unfortunately, she did not have any outlets to release her desires, except for her own hand and limited imagination. 

Her time in the Academy changed her circumstances. She found herself surrounded by men and women who were eager to experiment with their own sexuality, excited by the prospect of telepathic sex. It was only logical to have experience in all fields, Shaw thought, and gain mastery of them too. 

She ran through sexual partners, all the while running through the scientific method in her mind. Men like this, she categorized, and women like that. She would take each partner three times at most, not wanting them to get too attached to her.

Reese had told her about gossip regarding her sex life two months after she had begun her explorations.

“You know, Shaw, everyone’s itching to have a piece of you,” he told her with a very slight smirk on his lips.

She quirked her left eyebrow in confusion. 

“Word’s spread about how great you are in bed. There’s a rumor going around that you had a threesome with an Orion and an Andorian yesterday!” Reese crowed.

Shaw furrowed her brow. 

“I assure you that is completely false, John. I was located at the Starfleet Medical Academy assisting with surgeries from 1400 to 2200 last night.”

Later that night, Shaw meditated on what John had told her. Although she did have quite a high libido (to use human terms), she only bedded her classmates once every week at the most. Her schedule was packed with TAing Xenobiology, taking her own classes, 3-D chess, exercising every other day, and volunteering at the Starfleet Medical Academy. She did not have much time for recreation nor did she desire more contact with others than necessary.

* * *

On a Friday evening one year, eleven months, and nine days later, Shaw sat at a movable table with a 3-D chess set atop it. She had just beaten an Astrophysics senior in five moves and awaited her next partner. 

The door to the room opened with the arrival of a person Shaw had never seen before. Shaw took her appearance in. The woman was a human approximately five inches taller than she was, with brown hair and an unsure look on her face. At least Shaw theorized the facial expression was unsure. She watched the woman look around the room with a frown on her face and a scrunched up nose. The woman’s gaze then met Shaw’s and she grinned when Shaw gestured to an empty chair across from her.

“Why hello there,” the woman spoke once she sat down, raking her eyes down Shaw’s body. The tone she addressed Shaw with was a familiar one. She heard it weekly when her peers propositioned her for “some fun.”

Shaw looked at her evenly. “Shaw.” was all she said.

The woman smirked. “Root. I take it you play often?” she joked.

Shaw made the first move and ignored Root’s question, by which Root appeared to be unperturbed.

The two played the rest of the game in silence, Shaw surprised by Root’s proficiency. The other woman was probably the most skilled human she had ever played against, and Root’s confident body language let Shaw know she knew it too.

Root did not take her loss well ten minutes later; she lost only against Harold, and that’s because he was a Grandmaster. Standing up and grabbing her bag, she glared at Shaw’s impassive face.

“We’re playing again.”

Shaw watched her walk away. She was going to have to review the game during her meditation that night. No one had ever been as close to beating her as Root.

* * *

The next few weeks found Root pestering Shaw daily to play against her. Root had somehow discovered her entire schedule and followed her around between and after classes. 

Shaw conceded to playing every three days provided that Root stopped following her. Root lit up in response to Shaw’s gruff “I hope this is acceptable to you” and proceeded to give Shaw her address.

It would have been a lie to propose that Shaw never thought about the other woman. She found Root’s demeanor and appearance attractive; Root did have quite a symmetrical face, after all. But the two had begun discussing classwork and Shaw slowly developed an interest in the other woman’s thinking processes. She was clearly disinterested in humanity and social contact, just like Shaw. She decided to make learning about Root’s mind her semester project. With the chess playing it was not like she had time for her other recreational activity anyway.

* * *

Root learned Shaw was a half Vulcan, half human hybrid the fifth time they met. Shaw had causally mentioned it during a discussion of interspecies formalities and Root gaped, completely surprised as she moved a piece. (Shaw noticed with slight amusement Root’s ill-decided move and took her queen.)

During the next few months Root and Shaw began meeting more than every three days. They had in Root’s terminology “homework parties” and often ate lunch together in the quad. Root enjoyed talking about the differences among the cultures of bipedal species and appreciated it when Shaw would occasionally chime in with her rich body of knowledge and eloquent speech. However, they would discuss their lives during chess games.

When Root talked about her father’s abusive relationship with her mother, she lost two bishops, a knight, and five pawns in twelve moves. Shaw brought her tea after she lost the second bishop, handing it to her with softer eyes than normal. Root was careful not to touch Shaw’s hand when she took the mug with a whispered _“thanks.”_

Shaw lost one knight and two pawns when she told Root about her own father three games later. She glared at the table and looked up only when she saw Root reach out for her hand and hastily withdraw it.

Shaw lost one rook when she heard Root talk about her experiences of being bullied and ostracized in school. “It’s okay,” Root said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “I ended up the best of them anyway.”

Root lost an entire game in seven moves when Shaw told her about her own ostracism on Vulcan and the reason why she rejected admission into the Vulcan Science Academy. “Sameen, I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely before she realized her mistake. Shaw flinched at the name and stared intensely at her. 

“How do you know that name?” Shaw could barely keep her voice even.

Root looked down miserably. “I looked at your file after our first game,” she whispered. “I’m sorry,” her voice strengthened as she made eye contact. “I won’t say it again.”

Shaw nodded and reset the pieces.

Since she was still looking at the floor, Root didn’t notice Shaw’s eyes roaming over her body.

* * *

Root stopped sleeping with everyone the day after she lost against Shaw for the first time at the 3-D Chess Club meeting. It wasn’t only because Shaw was smoking hot (okay a large part was that) but she had finally met an adversary who could best her in her third-best game (the first being coding and the second being flirting). 

She quickly made beating Shaw in one match her first goal of the semester, followed by the tentative goal of sleeping with her. Of course she’d had telepathic sex before, but never with a Vulcan. _Shaw must be fantastic in bed,_ she thought. _Cold in the streets (and everywhere, come to think of it), hot in the sheets!_

The only problem was that of her sexual appetite. Root liked getting some every day if she had time, which she usually didn’t. Her games and homework parties with Shaw greatly cut into her personal time, even if she wasn’t having sex anymore. Except with herself, that is.

Root more recently found herself running back to her apartment right after their hangouts and fingering herself against her door the moment it closed, replaying Shaw’s voice fresh in her mind and imagining it was Shaw shoving three fingers in her with a smirk on her face. She often came with Shaw’s name on her lips, sinking down onto the floor with the force of her orgasm and wishing Shaw was there with her as she ran her glistening fingers up her stomach.

Shaw, on the other hand, found herself with a similar problem. She had stopped her experimental forays into sex with others after her third game against Root. She had convinced herself at the beginning it was because she needed to think of new strategies and had less time alone now that they were spending so much time together. However, after one month, Shaw realized she was attracted to the other woman.

On frequent nights she found herself unable to meditate with so many sexual thoughts in her mind. It had been five weeks since she had any sexual contact, and she needed release in order to concentrate. She had begun to masturbate nightly in order to release her sexual energy and more often than not, Root was what she imagined when she pressed her fingers to rub at her clit. 

She would come with a clenched jaw with Root’s smirk still in her mind and breathe out a sigh as she put her clothes on and lit three candles to meditate, her mind slightly more clear.

* * *

The day Root told Shaw about Hanna changed everything.

It was the anniversary of her death and Root sat across from Shaw, deep in thought. Shaw noticed Root’s unusually cheerless demeanor and frowned. Root had been flirting with her for the past four months, two weeks, and one day but she had been depressed the whole day.

“What is wrong?” Shaw asked halfway through the game, surprising even herself.

Root made a move and looked up from the chessboard with tears in her eyes.

“My friend died six years ago today. She’s the one I told you about, the one who protected me.” Root looked lost, staring at Shaw’s eyes but seeing nothing. Shaw moved her own piece without thinking.

Root smiled mirthlessly. 

“It must be nice, to not feel anything.”

Shaw looked up. 

“That is not true.”

Root decided in that moment to explode, standing up and tearing at her hair with one hand and looking frenzied. 

_”Don’t fucking tell me that, Shaw! You can turn off whatever you feel! You barely felt anything when you told me about your dad’s death!”_

Shaw slowly stood up, her face masklike.

 _”What’s it like, huh?! To be okay with your loved one’s death? To go on like it never happened?”_ Root’s eyes were wild and the woman was more unhinged than Shaw had ever seen her.

Root sat back down, burying her face in her hands.

“To tell her you love her and lose her forever,” she finished, sobbing into her arms.

Shaw maneuvered herself around the table to sit on the couch next to Root.

“Root,” she said.

There was no response. If any, Root cried harder. Shaw moved a piece on the chessboard before speaking again.

“Root,” she repeated firmly, “look at me.”

Root raised her head to glare at Shaw, her eyes red and her hands clawing at her thighs.

Shaw decided in that moment to take a risk, to defy all logic. It was what her father would have done.

“Palm up,” she said slowly, in a low voice.

Root looked at her questioningly but placed her left hand flat and palm up on her thigh.

“Trust me,” Shaw said, staring deeply and steadily into the other woman’s eyes. She continued looking into Root’s watery eyes as she slowly touched the fingertips of her pointer and middle fingers to Root’s for one-fourth of a second and withdrawing just as slowly.

Root gasped, finally realizing the meaning in Shaw’s stare, the same Shaw had been looking at her with for the past few weeks. 

“Vulcans do feel emotions,” Shaw said, “some more deeply than humans.”

Root remained silent, basking in the remnants of Shaw’s emotions. They were a complex vortex of admiration, sorrow, affection, fear, and…anger. Root remembered what she had said in her outburst.

“I’m sorry, Shaw,” she said to Shaw’s right leg, only looking up when Shaw spoke.

“It is okay. Humans are not as adept at controlling their emotions as I,” Shaw replied.

Was that a smile on her face? Root could usually tell, especially when Shaw displayed her dry wit. And speaking of emotions…there was something deeper underlying what she felt from Shaw. It was something she could barely recognize, something she had felt in her own heart only once before. Root frowned.

“When you are upset-” Shaw began. Root could tell she was very uncomfortable. “-I am here for you. I will not pretend to understand your emotions nor will I be able to help you in solving your emotional conflicts, but I will listen.”

Root gaped at her, starry eyed. Never had she heard such a heartfelt confession before, not even in the “I love you”s her past lovers had given her.

“Me too, Sameen. I’m here for you too.” Root cursed and slapped herself on her forehead with her right hand when she realized her slip.

“I’m sor-“

“It is acceptable,” Shaw replied, looking up from the chessboard. She just realized she had lost the game.

Root was speechless and looked down, observing her victory.

As Shaw moved closer to her, Root could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“I will not deny any longer that as you felt, I am not indifferent to your well-being,” Shaw explained. She put her hand on Root’s thigh, close to Root’s hand but not touching.

“What are you saying, Shaw?” Root shakily teased, wondering if she was correctly analyzing the moment. Her palms were sweaty on her thighs. “Is this you asking me out?”

Shaw blinked. She thought about the prospect of dating for a good three minutes while Root ducked her head down and stared at their hands on her thigh all the while.

Shaw’s voice startled her.

“This is acceptable,” she said lowly.

Root looked up with a delighted smile coming over her features. A smile that was matched by the slight upturned curve of Shaw’s lips.

* * *

The sex was incredible. Mind-blowingly, moaning orgasm-producing, sheet-stainingly incredible. They hadn’t slept together the night they became official. Hell, they hadn’t slept together until two weeks in after Root had pushed Shaw up against the wall.

“If you don’t fuck me right now, Sameen,” she relished in saying her name, “I’m going to have to take care of this myself. And I’m going to make you watch.” 

Hearing the threat, Shaw changed their positions, using her superior strength to slam Root into the wall, holding her wrists over her head. 

“This is unacceptable,” she said with a thinly veiled smirk.

Root let Shaw take her three times, arching up from the bed with every thrust of Shaw’s fingers, Shaw’s other hand cupping her cheek.

Once they were finished with Root cuddled up against Shaw’s side, Root finally asked the question.

“Do you have a bondmate?” she asked into Shaw’s ribs.

Shaw tugged her up so they were face-to-face and laying on their sides.

“I do not,” she answered seriously.

Root smiled and buried her face in Shaw’s neck, enjoying the other woman’s naturally warmer body.

* * *

This changed during Shaw’s next pon farr, which occurred in the next year. She had warned Root about her seven yearly hormonal burst during their six month anniversary. 

”I will engage in a mind meld with you and we will be telepathically linked in that moment and possibly afterwards,” she had explained, her body resting on top of Root’s.

“Isn’t that kind of like being married?” Root asked mindlessly, her hands running down Shaw’s back. Shaw stiffened until Root squeezed her tightly.

“If you’re worried, Sameen, you can find someone else to do it with. Someone whose bond with you won’t last,” Root whispered into her hair.

Shaw propped herself up on her elbows and kissed Root lightly. Moving a hand to Root’s cheek, the two sighed as they felt their connection establish.

It was then that Root realized truly what the emotion she had first felt six months ago and continued to that day which underlied all the others was. It was deep, cloudy, and stronger than anything she had ever felt within herself or coming from Sameen all the other times they had skin-to-skin contact. The emotion was like the deepest part of the ocean, where no light could illuminate anything. It was overwhelming, and Shaw withdrew her hand when she felt Root slipping away, drowning in her.

Root opened her eyes and looked up to where Shaw was looking right back at her, stroking her hair with the hand she removed from her cheek.

And in that moment, Root said the words she thought she would never say again, bursting with an emotion she believed she had stamped out of her life.

“I love you, Sameen,” she whispered reverently, cupping both of Shaw’s cheeks with her hands and gazing in the warm pools of Shaw’s eyes.

Shaw closed her eyes and exhaled, basking in Root’s love. It was not like hers; it ran over her with its airiness, like a light breeze. But its depth surrounded her, swirling around her and covering every inch of her body, in and out. 

Root removed her hands from Shaw’s face and returned them to her back. 

“You don’t have to force yourself to say anything, Sameen,” she said, “I already know.”

Shaw nodded and moved back to rest on Root’s chest. That was what she liked the most about Root. She never expected more, never asked for more than what Shaw could give. Instead of pushing and pulling her, Root molded herself around her, the two fitting perfectly together.

And when Shaw had at last bonded with her one month later, Root was able to feel Shaw’s affection for her in the back of her mind, a constant undercurrent below her own thoughts and feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so Shaw is a Junior and Root is a Freshman in this fic. I'm not sure if I made that clear...
> 
> I was a ding dong and incorporated all of my ideas into this monstrosity so I have nothing to write about now! :( Please prompt me at anandamideskies.tumblr.com.
> 
> I will not write smut and I can't promise I'll write your prompt since I'm picky but I'll appreciate all of them!


	3. Good With a Phaser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired by the new episode to write this. It appears Shaw taught Root hand-to-hand combat sometime and of course Starfleet officers need to know it too!

Root sipped her cocktail and looked at Shaw over her glass. The half-Vulcan looked uncomfortable in the crowded bar, noticeable by her stiffer sitting position.

Root placed her drink on a napkin and leaned over the table in their small booth. Grinning, she said, “Enjoying your cultural enrichment, Sameen?”

Shaw’s face was impassive. “As I am unable to become intoxicated by your human beverages, I do not enjoy the burn of this _whiskey_.” She frowned down at her drink. 

She frowned even more when a man approached Root’s side of the booth.

“Buy you a drink, sweetheart? You’ll enjoy a better time with me than with _Pointy_ over here,” he gestured at Shaw’s ears. He was towheaded, with dark beady eyes and a smug smile on his face. His musculature was emphasized by the too small shirt he was wearing, collar popped up.

Root’s condescending smile shifted into a glare when she heard his epithet for her girlfriend. 

“Why don’t you leave us in peace before I stun your ass?” Root replied icily, pulling out her phaser.

Two men the same size and as douchey looking as the first walked up to the table.

“Don’t be like that, honey,” the first man said. He clearly thought she was playing hard to get. Root noticed Shaw observing the men but she was unable to read the expression on her face.

The man continued. “All we want is to spend a nice time with a nice lady.” His eyes raked up and down her body, appreciating her low-cut black dress.

Root stood up and pointed her phaser at him. The Academy only handed out phasers set permanently to stun, but she had managed to get a hold of one that could be switched to kill.

“Let me lay out for you what’s going to happen,” she said stonily, “I’m going to stun you and your friends and leave you with marks that won’t disappear.” _That’s what you get for insulting my girlfriend,_ she thought in her head.

At least she imagined she thought the last part in her head. She saw Shaw flinch out of the corner of her eye.

In front of her, all three men looked stunned before their faces morphed into expressions of derision and sneers.  
“What you need,” the first man spat, “is the right man to set you straight. Lucky I’m here for that,” he finished, slapping the phaser out of her hand before she could react.

However, after his first step toward her, he found himself and his friends painfully flipped and shoved onto the ground with the Vulcan standing over them.

Not two seconds had passed since he had rendered the bitch weaponless, and he gaped with his face contorted in pain as he watched his attacker pick up the other woman’s phaser. _What the hell,_ he thought, _that Vulcan is over a foot shorter than I am!_

Shaw turned to the phaser-happy woman. “We are leaving,” she said with a slightly clenched jaw.

* * *

The two didn’t speak during their fifteen minute trek back to Root’s apartment. 

“We both agreed to keep our relationship a secret,” Shaw said after the door had closed, handing Root’s phaser back to her. She sat down on Root’s couch and watched as Root placed the weapon on the table and sat next to her. 

“I’m sorry, Sameen.” Root’s eyes were pleading. “It just came out!”

Shaw sighed and nodded. “You must take caution when your emotions cloud your judgment,” she replied gently. She reached for the hem of Root’s dress, playing with the material. 

Root bit her lip. Shaw’s actions in the bar were hot as hell, and she was already on edge from replaying the images in her mind. 

“Keep that up, Sameen,” she warned, “and we’re going to have to care of a few things.”

Shaw had a slight smirk (as much of a smirk as a Vulcan could produce, anyway) on her face when she placed her hand on Root’s thigh over her dress.

“Before we begin our activities-” she began. Root let out a groan and tilted her head back onto the top of the couch. “-we must address a more pressing issue.”

Root reached to tuck a hair behind Shaw’s ear, brushing the point of her ear and leaning in. She felt Shaw’s intake of breath and grinned, enjoying her ability to fluster her girlfriend.

“Nothing can be more pressing than-“

Shaw interrupted, taking Root’s wrist and removing her hand from her ear before placing it on top of her dress. “I will from now on instruct you in self-defense every Wednesday from 1500 to 1630,” she said.

“Sameen, you and I both know I’m good with a phaser,” Root said seductively, remembering when Shaw had complimented on her technique in the shooting range. She climbed into the other woman’s lap, her thighs on either side of Shaw’s hips and her arms running up and down her back. 

Shaw tilted her head up to look Root in the eye. “I will not engage in further activity without your agreement. Furthermore, hand-to-hand combat is a necessity for all Starfleet officers, as it is 99.97 percent likely you will be disarmed within the next five years.”

Root smiled affectionately before her face morphed into something more mischievous. “Of course, Sameen,” she bent down to whisper in her ear. “I do love getting sweaty with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not update this fic for a while since I am once again completely out of ideas. I may write a dark ass serial killer AU, though.


	4. Ashayam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out planning for labor with a Vulcan isn't as easy as Root thought.

“Cyra! Get back here before your _ko-mekh_ sees us!” Root ran across the carpet, chasing after her three year old daughter who had stolen her phaser.

Cyra stopped giggling and froze in place once she heard the Vulcan word. She slowly turned around and walked toward Root, handing the phaser back.

Root patted her daughter’s head. “Good girl.”

A second later, the door to room 216 opened. Shaw walked in, still typing on her PADD.

Cyra squealed and ran toward her mother, hugging her legs. Shaw looked down, put the PADD on a nearby table, and laid a hand on her daughter’s head.

“I trust you have completed your basic mathematics course for the day,” she said. Root gave her a disapproving look, tilting her head to the side.

“I have also missed you, Cyra-kam.” Shaw easily lifted the three year old into her arms, walking to the couch. 

She gently placed her daughter on the rightmost cushion as Root sat on her left, wrapping an arm around her waist.

_I missed you, Sameen._ She heard in her mind as Root kissed her cheek. She nodded, joining their fingers in the _ozh'esta_.

“Mommy and I played Advanced Computing for Interstellar Travel today,” Cyra addressed Shaw seriously.

Shaw turned her head to look at her bondmate, quirking an eyebrow up.

_It was a game that shot Romulan ships when you correctly answered a multiplication table,_ Root provided.

Shaw turned back to her daughter.

“I am sure you defeated all the Romulans?”

Cyra saluted with two fingers, a smile showing off her teeth appearing broadly on her face.

* * *

Root and Shaw had decided to have a child after four years into their journey aboard The Machine. 

“It is traditional to have a child when one feels secure in his or her bond,” Shaw had said.

Of course Root swooned over the romantic declaration and proceeded to make her bondmate feel as good as she did.

After, they had to decide who would carry the child.

“As the science officer, it is not prudent for me to carry the child. Away missions will put me at a 65.83 percent risk of miscarriage, even with my combat abilities.” 

Root hummed, stroking Shaw’s arm as they faced each other in bed. 

“I guess I have no choice then, Sameen.”

The science of producing a viable zygote from two ova had been perfected hundreds of years prior, but producing a Vulcan-human hybrid from two mothers was unheard of.

“I guess someone has to be the trailblazer,” Root had said before she heard a chiming from her cochlear implant.

_#Asset offspring viability is 98.524 percent._

Shaw had narrowed her eyes when had she realized The Machine had been spying on them again.

* * *

Root had been the most finicky pregnant woman ever to exist. One moment she was crying about dropping an ice cube on the floor, and the next she was pushing Shaw on the table, ripping yet another of her science blues. 

“I do not have sufficient replicator rations to replace another uniform,” she was forced to say one day. “You must be more patient.”

Of course it was difficult to get her point across when Root was stroking her very sensitive ears and nosing at her neck but she found the time to make her point clear hours later.

 

It was during the second trimester that Shaw requested weekly scans to ensure the viability of the child. 

“It is most logical to intervene before complications arise,” she remarked.

Root grinned at her as she always did, sappy and full of love. 

_#Algorithm predicting asset viability activated. Will update weekly._

Root’s smile fell a little at that. _Maybe having Her able to hear everything wasn’t the best idea._

 

Unfortunately, the two had the worst argument of their relationship when discussing the labor process. Root wanted a vaginal birth but Shaw was insistent on a c-section. 

“It is best for the child to come out quickly and efficiently,” she argued. “We do not know its anatomy therefore complications may arise during a vaginal birth.”

Root let out an exasperated sigh. “Natural births have the best outcomes for mother and child. I don’t want any lasers cutting into me anyway, Shaw.”

“But-“

“No!” Root’s voice got louder, annoyed that Shaw was able to maintain her composure. _Maybe it’s good that we’ve put up our walls through the bond_ she thought. “This is my body and my decision!”

“You are being selfish, Root,” Shaw’s tone was clipped. “You must think about the child’s life too. A prolonged labor may result in not only its death but also yours.”

“I’m not arguing with you any longer, Shaw. I’ve done my research about hybrid births and I know what I want.”

With that, Root gathered a few of her personal items and stormed out.

 

Root and Shaw after began a routine of completely ignoring the other’s existence, even on the bridge. 

“How can they keep this up?” John asked Captain Finch as he watched Root mindlessly rub her protruding stomach out of the corner of his eye. “They sit right next to each other.”

Captain Finch shrugged and frowned. His two crewmen’s awkwardness was permeating through the entire deck. If they kept it up any longer he was going to have to either separate them or order them to resolve their conflict.

 

It was a week later when Root heard Shaw’s voice from the other side of the door where she was staying in an empty Ensign’s quarters. She had felt so lonely for the past week separated physically and through the blocked bond they shared.

“Root. I am sorry,” Shaw’s quiet voice came through the door, “you were right. This is your decision and your logic is sound.”

Root stayed where she was sitting on her tiny and uncomfortable bed. 

“Root?” She couldn’t ignore Shaw when she sounded concerned.

She palmed open the door and pulled the Vulcan into the room, the door automatically sliding close behind them. Root wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around her bondmate and sniffled into her shirt.

_I’m sorry, Sameen. I’m just so hormonal and stressed and-_

_I am the one who is sorry, Root. You were more informed about the topic than I._ She paused. _Please come back to our room._

Root nodded and took Shaw’s hand, relishing their newly reestablished bond. 

“I hope we never have a fight like that again.”

“Affirmative.”

 

They surprisingly didn’t fight about whether they wanted to know the gender beforehand. Root explicitly ordered The Machine not to tell them.

“I like surprises anyway. But you know that already, honey.” She looked slyly at Shaw who flushed the slightest shade of green.

“We would not raise the child differently regardless,” she agreed.

 

“I hope she has cute pointed ears like yours,” Root traced Shaw’s ear with her index finger. She had her body wrapped around Shaw’s the best she could with her huge third trimester stomach.

“Why is that?” Shaw replied, eyes fluttering closed.

“They’re just adorable, Sameen!”

“I was and still am mocked for them, as you know,” was her reply.

“Sweetie, you and I both know I will stun anyone who makes fun of our little girl.” Root moved her finger from Shaw’s ear to boop her lightly on the nose.

Shaw bit on her finger gently and released her. “Girl?”

Root moved her hand back to Shaw’s waist. “I can just feel it. She’s definitely a girl.”

“There is no merit in pure speculation, _Ashayam_ ,” Shaw said gently, “I do not want you to get your hopes up.”

“Don’t worry Sameen, whatever gender it turns out to be, I’m still the luckiest woman in the universe.”

 

“You must push now,” Shaw ordered calmly.

Root couldn’t resist a sarcastic reply. _I guess your calmness is better than a nurse yelling at me._ The corners of Shaw’s mouth pulled up slightly.

“Would you like for me to inject you with an analgesic?” The nurse asked, eyes wide with worry.

“N-No,” Root gasped out, “I can do this.”

The nurse turned to Shaw who looked impassively at her. 

“It is her decision.”

 

Cyra Shaw was born at a healthy six pounds and four ounces after a relatively short labor. 

“Not all births are painful, you know,” Root had wheezed at Shaw. Before she passed out, a thought flitted through their minds.

_Of course she desires another child before we have raised this one_ Shaw thought humorously.

 

“Sweetie-“

“No.”

“Baby-“

“No.”

“ _Saaaaaaaam-_ ”

“Root. We will wait at least two years before having another.”

Root pouted and then smirked. “You’re right, Sameen, we need to get in plenty of sex before taking care of two kids.”

Shaw opened and closed her mouth without saying anything. She flushed, green tinting her cheeks, before turning away from the other woman.

“Affirmative.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this in April HAHAAHHAHAAHAHAHA. D:


End file.
